Glimpses of the Golden Age
by WillowDryad
Summary: Ten glimpses into the Pevensies reign. Golden Age. No slash.


**GLIMPSES OF THE GOLDEN AGE**

**OldFashionedGirl95, Laura Andrews, MissShakespeare72 and I all got together to do this Random Word Challenge. This is what I came up with, all set in my favorite Narnian time, The Golden Age. Check out theirs, too!**

******Disclaimer: Edmund and Peter Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me. **

**BONUS:**

"Hey!" Edmund scrambled to his feet, wiping his mouth and spitting muddy water. "No fair!"

"You started it."

Grinning, Peter brushed the dust off his tunic and kept walking.

Edmund scurried to catch up to him. "I tripped you. I did _not_ send you sprawling into a mud puddle right before we were due in council."

"No, you didn't," Peter agreed, a superior smirk on his face. "The puddle was just a little bonus."

**JUDGEMENT:**

Peter would have liked to tell Edmund that taking a shortcut through the Shuddering Wood alone at night was poor judgement. He would have done it, too, except their choice of route had been Peter's idea, not Edmund's, and Edmund was now lying bloodied and senseless at his feet.

Peter stood with his back against a tree, unable to move, shielding his brother as best he could. With his sword. With his body. With whatever courage he could muster. It wouldn't be enough. Not now. He was at the end of himself.

_Aslan, save us._

And the Wolves closed in.

**GRAMMAR: **

"You'd better come quick!"

Susan looked up from the letter she was writing to see her sister breathless and bedraggled in the doorway. "'Quickly,' Lucy. The correct word is 'quickly.'"

"But the boys were racing their horses real fast and–"

"'Really fast,' Lu. Please use proper grammar."

The younger girl only giggled. "I'm not sure how proper you're going to feel when you find out they knocked down the clothesline and your underthings are spread out all across the yard."

**NAPPY: **

"Just until I see to the Terebinthian delegation, Your Majesty, if you please." Lady Althea stroked back her little one's thick, dark hair. "I'm sure he won't be a bit of trouble."

She walked away, leaving Edmund holding seventy pounds of sleeping baby gorilla and wondering if Narnians knew anything about nappies.

**SHILLYSHALLY:**

The Galman lord leaned over Susan's hand, pressing it with a smoldering kiss. "Come, Lady, and give me your answer. No maidenly shillyshallying tonight. I can see in those lovely eyes that you are no more immune to this moonlight than I."

The Gentle Queen's glance was shy, her smile demure, her soft voice musical. "Then know plainly, Sir, that if the Kings my brothers had heard what you just suggested, they would answer you quickly and most resolutely with their blades."

**STRAY: **

When he was rescued from the White Witch and brought before Aslan, Edmund was afraid, awed, profoundly grateful. When Susan and Lucy welcomed him back with warm hugs and no reservations, he was relieved and reassured. And when Peter himself tended to his wounds, bathing them with remorseful tears, brokenly asking forgiveness for not being a better brother, Edmund clung to him and vowed he would never stray again.

**BUNNY: **

"King Peter! King Peter!"

Peter could barely hear the tiny voice over the roar of the flames. Marauding Giants had set fire to the woods, and Peter and his soldiers had worn themselves out trying to extinguish it.

"King Peter!" The Bunny stood up against his leg, unable to reach higher than his ankle. "Please, Sir, Mummy and Daddy, my brothers and sisters–"

With a crash, a tree collapsed into itself, obliterating the little rabbit warren beneath. The Bunny hid her face against Peter's boot, and he scooped her up, cuddling her against his racing heart.

"You stay with me."

**EXPRESSIONIST:**

Lucy had always liked to make pictures. In the year since they had come to Narnia, she had turned out dozens and dozens of them. Her latest was a larger-than-life portrayal of her favorite subject, painted on the east wall of the banquet hall.

Peter said he liked how He looked wild and kind all at the same time.

Susan said she wasn't sure Lions were quite that shade of royal purple.

Edmund said Lucy was an expressionist.

Millicent, one of the Otters who cleaned the castle, said nothing. She merely sighed and went to fetch her scrub brush. Again.

**CURSIVE: **

In the flowing cursive letters he used for formal communications, High King Peter wrote his polite refusal and sealed it with his royal seal. He was honored by the offer, he had written, and he was certain the terms were quite generous, but he was simply unable to accept a thousand acres of prime timberland in exchange for agreeing to the marriage of his brother to the Telmarine Duke's thrice-widowed sister.

Fourteen-year-old Edmund breathed a sigh of relief.

**CONTRITE:**

Edmund knelt before his High King, dark head bare and bowed, dark eyes downcast, contrite. There was a long, narrow bruise across his cheek. His lower lip was split.

"I know. I'm supposed to learn to do as I'm told."

"You were ordered to withdraw," Peter said, voice hard. "You and all your men might have been lost."

Edmund didn't look up until his brother reached out a bruised hand, pulled him tightly against his bandaged chest, and pressed a fervent kiss to his forehead.

"And I'd certainly have been lost if you'd obeyed," he whispered. "Thank you, brother mine."

**This is my first try at a word prompt challenge, and I'd love to know if you especially liked any of those or, more importantly, if you especially didn't like them. Do let me know!**

–**WD**


End file.
